


Cyber Monday Special

by cognomen



Series: Everything Must Go [3]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M, phonesex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:51:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the phone rings at four am, Reese answers it. He never sleeps deeply, and it's surprised him how few of the numbers got their starts in the middle of the night but-</p>
<p>	"Mr. Reese," Finch says,  as John gets up, throws back the covers. "Hold it right there."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cyber Monday Special

When the phone rings at four am, Reese answers it. He never sleeps deeply, and it's surprised him how few of the numbers got their starts in the middle of the night but-

"Mr. Reese," Finch says, as John gets up, throws back the covers. "Hold it right there."

There's something slightly wrong with his voice - there's nothing like the usual clipped cadences he uses when they're in a hurry, and Reese pauses, glances up warily, paranoid of cameras.

"Finch," he says, and he keeps his tone level, "you'd better not be watching me."

"I am, Mr. Reese. And I was." 

Here is where Reese finally places what's wrong with Finch's voice, the slow tone, the blurred sound. Surprise overtakes his anger at the revelation that his apartment was not sacred from Finch's hidden eyes.

"About half an hour ago, Mr. Reese, I happened to glance up from my work-" Finch continues, trailing on, and Reese suspects that he'd only waited to call in order to drink the courage into himself. "And I noticed you weren't sleeping. It so happens I wasn't either."

Reese sighs, pulls the blankets over his lap more firmly, ready for - he' s actually not sure what. A lecture perhaps, except that he was in what was supposed to be his own home, in his bedroom of all places. There has to be some time that is his own.

"I enjoyed myself," Finch admits, and his tone goes low, husky and curling with alcohol. "I don't suppose I could entice you to do it again?"

Reese could laugh, except that he knows what they have is already too tentative, has always been on the side of caution and denial, so instead he considers what to say.

"I could come up," he says at last. "We could do this in person."

"I was hoping you might lay back and be tractable to my suggestions," Finch says, and something in his tone is so quietly desperate for it that Reese reaches over, turns on the bedside light, and flings the blanket out of his lap, lays back. He doesn't know where the camera is, but he hears Finch's breath go in sharply. 

"Do you know what I used to charge for this?" Reese says, keeping his tone low. 

"I don't suppose you'd already consider yourself on retainer," Finch says wistfully, but neither of them means it. "Close your eyes, please, and start the way you normally would. I missed it the first time, I'm afraid." 

Reese runs his hands down his stomach. He doesn't think Finch expects that he's pretty practical when he's alone, he runs his hands low over his stomach, hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants, pushes them down just enough to draw his cock free. As he gets hard, he wonders at first if Finch has found some distraction, if he's wandered away, because the silence on the other end of the line is resounding, but then he hears a faintly ragged breath, and another one pulled in sharply, and realizes Finch is just forgetting to breathe.

"Are you going to say anything?" He prompts, stroking himself lazily.

"I was just thinking you were doing fine on your own, Mr. Reese. Could I convince you to take your pants the rest of the way off?"

Reese is convinced. He twists his hips, and Finch stops him in the middle, tells him to take that position again when he's free of the fabric, and Reese has a better idea of where the camera is anyway. 

"Do you mind that I watched?" Finch asks, after they've resumed, and his voice is distracting in John's ear, intimate as if he were sitting just behind. Reese can hear some noise in the background, but he doesn't focus too clearly on it, just keeps his pressure steady, his pace steady. 

"Only if you don't let me know you are," Reese breathes, "and right now I mind being distracted."

"I think you could use a little distraction, couldn't you?"

Reese doesn't answer directly, he speeds his pace, and hears Finch's breath quicken, and he gasps out a laugh.

"Who's giving the orders?" he asks, breathless, and then he says into the air. "Match me, Finch."

John doesn't need any words to be in control, no distractions, he just pushes and listens, pushes until he hears Finch's breath start to stutter and then he slows, makes a sound to draw Finch's attention, listens to the disappointed noise on the other end of the line, teasing the both of them.

"Mr. Reese I don't-"

"You can call me John when we're doing this."

"John, then. I don't have your stamina I'm afraid-"

John shows his teeth in a smile, curls his hand tighter and reaches down, behind his own balls to push up, hard until he's coming, and Harold is making a surprised sound - maybe matching that motion too, but only one of them can see, after all.

He wipes his fingers in the blankets and listens to the breaths run ragged out of Harold's throat. "Are you sure you don't want me to come up, Harold? You could give me directions to your place..." Reese asks, allowing his voice to be ever so suggestive.  
"No, that won't be necessary," he says, and the strange wall between them is starting to come down again. "I'll see you in the morning, John."

**Author's Note:**

> I put the call out for 'Cyber Monday' prompts because I can't hear that phrase without my mind going to dirty places. I got two for webcam/phone sex with Reese/Finch, so I did both together, and it kind of happened in the EMG universe.


End file.
